Hall of mirrors
Phhhh. It is done. The immigration papers, the cheques, the supporting documents are on their way to Chicago and all that is left for me to do is wait. Wait and forget, get on with life as it presents itself to me.
I am glad for it. Relieved. A little tired. More relaxed than I have been. Less reactive.
There is a freedom in this. It reminds me somewhat of the freedom I felt when Dharmananda told me I would have to go: no more trying, no more living to others’ expectations.
And that is, after all, the essence of applying to immigrate: living up to the expectations of the nation. Not that most people here could care less whether I stayed or left, but the government does find itself in the position of needing to live up to the people’s expectations: keep those undesirables out!
It is a hall of mirrors: me living up to the expectations of a government living up to the expectations of the people living up to a multitude of expectations from lovers, bosses, children, churches living up to more and more and more and more expectations until all that’s left is the illusion of expectation.
The best way to not get lost in a hall of mirrors is to not enter it in the first place.